Fast Food Love
by sa-shii-mi
Summary: He loved Fast Food. It was his hobby, his passion, the meaning of his existence even if it wasn't really helping him in his social and love life . So why the f*ck would he give it up? Male/Male, GrimmxIchi, M in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Fast Food Love

**Warnings: The F-word, OOC, mistakes. And a bit of criticizing. 's all. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, only this semblance of a plot. **

**Please REVIEW, and feel free to tell me what I should change to be better. **

**PROLOGUE: "And fries with that, thanks."**

He loved food. Well, almost everybody does because it's kind of substantial. But he didn't just _love_ food: he adored it. He didn't eat to live, he lived to eat.

Of course he only ate _real_ food: burgers, fries, chicken wings, fried onion rings, pizza – you name it. Vegetables and salad weren't food for him: they were only meant for the bunnies. Or as a decoration on his delicious greasy food. He could die for Fast Food… well; he would probably die of it, according to his bitch of sister.

His sister kept telling him that if he didn't stop eating that 'poisonous shit' – as she called the object of his undying love – he'd die in a few years.

'_Stupid bitch, he thought, way to wish your brother a nice life.'_

Her constant nagging about his appearance didn't help improving his bad temper. It's not like she couldn't allow herself to do so: the fucker was a frickin' bombshell. Even he, as her brother, knew that much. She had a beautiful doll face, a model figure, exotic traits and huge boobs. Men would always gape at her and drool when they saw her, whereas girls… would do the same or run off, crying about the unfairness of life.

Yep, his 'darling' sister always nagged about his eating habits, saying that it was a waste of his gifted genes. Okay, he'd also inherited of the exotic traits their parents had, but that didn't make the girls swoon. When they saw him, they'd freak out. Not like he cared, cuz the feeling was mutual anyway. He couldn't bear with those stupid duck faces who dreamt about a handsome knight in a shiny armor, riding on a fucking white horse.

'_I don't think I could squeeze myself in white tights and a armor… let alone mount a horse without breaking its back.' _he mused bitterly.

That was the teen's problem or more his family's problem: He was a bit on the chubby side. He was in shape though, as round is a shape. But he really wasn't worried about his weight. He knew that every guy had a period in their life where they could eat all the shit they want without gaining an ounce of fat. And he… let's say that he was still waiting for that period.

Meanwhile he enjoyed his little routine of morning donuts, lunch burgers and big diner.

And at the moment, he was going through his nice comfy routine. He sat behind a building, near to the school's garden, in the grass that shone brightly in the sun. He loved that place because nobody would come around here and annoy the hell out of him. The high school student grabbed the brown paper bag in which was the menu he'd bought a few minutes prior in the Fast Food restaurant down the street, and his hand dove in it to snatch the double-cheeseburger it contained.

Expertly unwrapping his lunch, the teen, or 'Fatty' as they called him around here, took a big bite of the patty, almost moaning at the taste he never got tired of. 'Fatty' munched with his mouth open, knowing that it was nasty but it made him enjoy the lunch much more.

That was one of the advantages of not having friends: you could eat like a pig and no one would start screaming 'shut your mouth when you eat, you gross fucker.'

There were many other advantages in being friendless. As much as it sounded "forever alone"-ish, the teen didn't have to drag other people's issues on top of his own, he didn't risk having fights with them, and he had a lot of free time.

And at least, he knew that people only cared about appearances in this rotten society. If you were a bit different or not as close as them to the beauty ideal, you could go screw yourself and die in a hole.

To conclude: life was for him better when not full of hinders.

He sighed, feeling a small ache in his chest and shook his head.

'_Has to be the food. Nothing big.'_ he reassured himself.

After finishing his meal and wiping his hands and mouth clean, he lay back against the warm stone wall and closed his eyes, enjoying the sun that exceptionally decided to fucking grace him with its presence. Secretly, the large male hoped that the boiling hot temperature would melt a few pounds away, but he knew that it was wishful thinking.

The teen inhaled deeply, before slowly exhaling and relaxing his body. He felt sleep pull at his consciousness. He was aware that he only had twenty minutes until the end of lunch break but he decided to not fight it. Having eaten at his heart's content always had that effect on him… which meant that he actually slept a lot. Not as much as that Starkk dude in his class, but he had his great share of sleep.

If there was anything he loved nearly as much as food, it was sleep. Because when he slept, he could be the handsome dude he hoped to be after the 'crazy-metabolism'-period. He'd be strong, cool, popular, and he'd have a lot of bitches. He wasn't really ashamed of his dreams because he knew for sure that everybody had that kind of ideal in their mind they wished to attain.

His lips parted slightly as he felt the deep inner sensation that is serenity, the sensation that will help him merge with his ideal, if only for a short twenty minutes.

As he was falling into the welcoming embrace of the darkness, he was suddenly ripped out of his world by a shadow that blocked the sun rays and the warmth they offered. He cracked an eye open, glaring at the person daring to break his peaceful moment.

"What do ya want from me, brat?" he growled, hoping that the other would get the annoyance and anger he felt at the disturbance. Yet the newcomer didn't seem unfazed by his tone. He blinked, and then smirked:

"I want ya in the kickboxing club." he answered. His tone was confident and almost cocky.

The sitting teen gaped at him, his eyes and mouth wide open.

'_What the fuck?'_

**A/N: **

**Yes, it's short, but it's a prologue and I'm tired. And it's OOC but I guess you understand why. Anyway, I love reviews and my birthday's coming up, sooo… oh, I don't have a BETA, btw.**

**Hope you enjoyed. It's my first GrimmxIchi story so bear with me. I'm trying to get used to them.**

**PLEASE REVIEW BABES!**

**PS: Kärpässieni, it's not the one I told you about, that one's coming up next **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, story + etc!**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Two: Would you like a kick in your face as a side dish? It's on the house. **

'_What the fuck?_'

His mind went blank for a few seconds, as did his face. He stared at the boy standing in front of him and effectively blocking the sun without blinking. Whiskey-brown eyes looked at him with patience written in them clearly and a small smirk graced peach colored lips.

'_Oh, I get it_.', he thought bitterly.

Yet he decided not to show it to the tan skinned, muscular newcomer. The chubby male felt his electric blue eyes fill with humor and his nicely shaped lips (not that anyone would notice it) stretch upwards before transforming into a shit-eating grin that almost reached his ears. The orange haired athlete's face lit up at the reaction.

But when Grimmjow let out a deep and loud laugh, the orange haired teen's expression went from happy to confused. His eyebrows furrowed and his smile fell a bit but he waited for the teal haired giant to explain the cause of his laughing fit.

The deep, rough laugh stopped abruptly as Grimmjow crossed his arms, his face morphing into a scowl. His smirk was still in place yet where there had been humor sparkling a few moments before was now ice cold anger that hardened the electric blue pools and changed them into ice cubes.

The larger male uncrossed his arms and clapped his hands slowly.

"You're the most original of all of them. My sincerest congratulations." he said his tone deep and dry.

Chocolate brown eyes widened a bit before their owner spoke up:

"What are you talking about?" He asked, almost innocently.

Grimmjow felt anger rise in his chest, felt it go up his windpipe, making his throat constrict, before slipping out in form of words:

"Do you think I'm fucking _stupid_?" he spat out venomously. "Do you think I wouldn't guess that this is one of your fucked-up bets on "Who will humiliate the Fatty most?"? Well, I'm sorry, you brat, but the winner won't be you. So, fuck off. Right now."

Grimmjow stood up and felt blood rush to his head. His breath got a bit rougher and his vision blurred a bit around the corners before darkening.

'_Even standing up is difficult for me. Tss, pathetic_.' a voice mumbled angrily in his head.

When his sight returned entirely, he noticed that the slender male was still there. This surprised him quite a bit as usually people would run away as soon as he looked at them with a harsh look. But this brat didn't even budge although Grimm was standing at his full height with a deep scowl marring his face…

Okay, his sister Nell wouldn't move either but well, that bitch is scarier than Grimmjow when she shows her true face. But that was another story.

Grimmjow observed the orange-haired teen who was now wearing a pissed-off look. His whiskey-brown eyes had turned into a dark chocolate brown and his peach colored lips were kept in a frown. The nameless student had a tense stance, his hands clenched and fixed firmly along his upper body. He spoke up:

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm only here cuz I noticed you had a tall and strong built! I -"

Grimmjow stared disbelievingly and deadpanned:

"You really think I'm gonna believe that? Come on, say it, I know you're dying to do so! Say it! Call me 'Greasy Grimm' or 'Fatty'! Ask me if I've played the role of the huge stone in the Indiana Jones shit!"

He laughed at the remembrance of the jeers of his schoolmates. They could be really creative when they put a bit effort into it.

When he was a kid, he hadn't noticed his physical difference. And then… he'd been forced to attend primary school.

From then on, he'd been the victim of cruel bullying, had heard and hated all those horrible words. He'd endured it silently for a few years before exploding and smashing all his bullies. This had led to counseling hours, detention and incomprehension from the adults.

How could they understand his suffering? 's not like they'd ever been victims of mobbing. They thought they'd understand everything by reading books written by ignorant people.

But then, when he entered High School, he noticed that people didn't change. This helped him taking a step back from them and accepting his difference more or less.

The teal-haired male was pulled out of his reverie by a deep, yet light voice:

"Hey man, I swear I'm not here to mess with you. I'm only genuinely interested by your built and your potential for kick-boxing. Listen, when I was a kid I got bullied for my traffic cone hair and scrawny built. I don't feel like lowering myself to the level of those scumbags…"

"Oh." was all that came out of Grimmjow's parted lips. He felt like face palming himself for that _brilliant_ answer. He fidgeted a bit before saying:

"Hear brat, I-"

"It's not 'brat', it's Ichigo Kurosaki. And not Ichigo as in Strawberry, okay?"

Grimmjow frowned a bit at the interruption, but went further with a sigh:

"So, _Ichigo_, I'm sorry for the shit that happened to you and stuff, but I… erm… let's put it like this: ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND?"

He gestured towards his own body and continued:

"How could you even think of me being good at sport? Don't you see that I'm fat? Or how society says: 'A bit on the rounder side.'? Being tall doesn't make me strong and being large is no fucking good if it's fat and not muscles. 'sides: I haven't approached a sport court since… ever. To conclude: No fucking way in damn hell, Berry."

Grimmjow bent down to grab his stuff but as his hand took a hold on his bag, he felt a strong kick on his ass, making him crash on the ground.

He turned on his back, only to see the Kurosaki teen jump on him with a placid expression before pinning him on the grass. Electric eyes found their lost hatred and unnaturally sharp teeth grinded together before large and chubby limbs tried to undo themselves from their human shackles.

Ichigo sat on the stomach of the furious male. If what people had told him was true, he had a plan B to get Jaegerjaques to enter his club. And said teen's prior behavior had only confirmed that his plan would work. You just had to push the right buttons.

"Well, Jaegerjaques? Isn't it a bit pathetic to be overwhelmed by a smaller and thinner kid? I sure would be ashamed."

Grimmjow growled and struggled against Ichigo's firm hold.

"Fuck you! I don't give a shit about it! And now you better fuck off!"

"Or what? Come on, if you didn't give a flying shit about your weakness, you wouldn't be struggling and hissing like some overgrown kitten." Ichigo said, his eyes sparkling with knowledge and mirth. Why be so happy? Because he knew that he'd won this battle.

Ichigo feigned resignation and with much difficulty hid his victorious smirk as he stood up and brushed invisible dust from his trousers. He let out a sigh and turning his back to Grimmjow, said:

"if you are fed up with your loneliness and powerlessness, just come by in my class, and we'll figure out a special training or something before you enter the club. I mean, that is if you have the balls to do it." He waved goodbye and left to head back for class.

Grimmjow looked at his retreading back before falling back on the grass. He let out a long sigh and stared at the blue sky. His round arms were folded and served as a pillow. He felt weariness pull on his eyelids. He decided that he'd skip the afternoon classes. It's not like he'd ever liked Aizen's Religion class.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The silver fork played with a piece of meat, tossing it around on the plate without stabbing it. The owner of the fork was slumped on his chair, his elbow on the table and his hand propping his cheek. His mouth was shaped into an almost inexistent pout and his eyes indicated that his mind was nowhere near here.

"Grimmjow? Are you okay, sweetie? You haven't eaten much tonight…", said an beautiful, fifty years old woman who looked like she was thirty.

Her electric blue eyes that she'd bequeathed to her son shone with concern. Emilia didn't like to see her son so thoughtful and it worried her to see him leave his plate untouched.

The seventeen year old male looked up and coming back to reality, answered:

"Erm, no, I'm fine. Just not really hungry. I ate too much at lunch, I guess."

A melodic laugh escaped full, plump lips belonging to a green haired beauty that sat on Grimmjow's left side:

"Oh please, Grimmy! You and 'not really hungry' don't belong in the same sentence. You always have place for food, my dear fat and asocial brother. ~ So, drop the shit and tell us what's up."

Said asocial brother clenched his teeth and gripped his fork with so much force that it was bent in an odd way. He let out a growl and said in a menacing deep voice:

"I told you there's nothing up, you stupid bitch."

Grimmjow's mother slammed down her fist on the table, as she always did when she felt that a fight would break out. She knew she was the only one who had a hold on her disastrous kids. She looked at Grimmjow with a warning glare:

"Don't you talk like that to your sister!"

"But Mom! She started –"

"Grimmjow Pantera Jaegerjaques!"

Grimmjow gulped. When his mother called him by his full name it meant that he'd better shut the fuck up before getting beat to a pulp by his sweet mom. He sighed.

"Fine. That stupid kid came up during lunch and told me to enter his kickboxing club. I to-" he was interrupted by his sister.

"Whaaaat? You mean, Ichigo Kurosaki? Oh please, why would such a frickin' hottie want a nottie like you in his club? This is so ridiculous!", said Nel before breaking out in a laughing fit.

"How should I know it? He just told me to enroll!" the obese male yelled defensively.

When he saw the incredulous look on his family's faces, he felt hurt and fury fill his chest. He stood up brusquely, making the dishes jump slightly, and let out a ferocious growl that went well with his huge scowl. He pushed his chair back and left the room, ignoring his mother's calls to calm down.

He climbed his stairs quickly and locked himself in his room.

He would show them! And he would give them a reason to fucking respect him!

Tomorrow he would go to the Kurosaki asshole and accept his challenge.

'Guuuurgle grrrrrrrrrruh…'

But first he'd empty his hidden snack drawer.

**A/N: It's a bit dark. But you have to understand Grimm's point of view. I'm sorry if I overdid it or if it is cliché but I was never confronted to bullies for my weight, cuz I was pretty much of an athlete (now I'm not anymore but I'm kinda careful.) **

**Anyway, hope you liked it a bit, and please REVIEW! It really motivates me to write more! Cuz I like to know what people think of my stuff. And I don't have a beta, so if there are mistakes, please tell me! **

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW PLEAAAASE!**


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